


Through the Dark There Is Light

by reve_silencieux



Series: The Last Con [4]
Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Permanent Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4671263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reve_silencieux/pseuds/reve_silencieux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nearly a year after the accident, Neal tries to make a certain day special for Sara.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Dark There Is Light

Sara idly looked up at the night sky as she sat at a stoplight. There were a few street lights lit up along the residential street, but otherwise, it was a calm and peaceful evening, with stars just beginning to twinkle high above. She had to admit it was nice to actually have _night_ here in the suburbs, instead of city lights blaring at all hours. It was still a change to live outside the city, but she was getting used to it.

The light turned green and she drove forward, making her way to the apartment complex she and Neal now called home. Boulder, Colorado was not the trendy city of New York or historic like London, but in its own way, it was a vibrant city with its own feel. True, it was a college town and the area was known for its nature and outdoor activities, things Sara had never considered before (nor really pictured herself getting involved in seriously), but it was also some place she now felt safe and she found herself enjoying the laidback pace, without the rush and frenzy that was inherent in places like New York.

She would probably always look back fondly on her time in New York and London, however, she’d learned in the past year that the _where_ was not important as the _who_ she spent her time with. There were still moments it hurt, and she knew that would never go away.

Slowing down as her street came up, she turned and then made another quick turn into their apartment parking garage. At least, she mused as she circled the garage, she didn’t have to worry about cleaning the snow off her car when winter came. There were plenty of apartment complexes with open parking, but Erin, their US Marshal, had looked hard to find a place that was accessible for Neal, and had thought about the details—including the fact that it would be hard for Neal to clean his car and get around on icy sidewalks.

She appreciated Erin’s efforts, but Sara still saw Neal fighting in the small space of the apartment. He’d come a long way since the accident, though, and every day she could tell he was more comfortable handling his chair and accepting his limitations. She, too, had been learning to adapt and she would be the first to admit that it had been hard—and still was. Starting a new life was one thing, and both of them had experience in that, but the emotional aspect of losing so much at once had been the hardest.

There were still days she wanted to cry when he handled his legs like the inanimate objects they were now, and it would just hit her that he would never walk again—that this was his life now. It wasn’t that she felt he was any less a man, or that she loved him any less, but it was a stark reminder of how much had changed. 

Looking down—not up—was still a challenge. Remembering to keep everything at his level, helping him stretch his legs every night, and all the other many little things kept it fresh in her mind. One day it would become normal, but for now she wept silently and tried to put a smile on her face.

She recognized that it was an uphill battle for both of them. With the one-year anniversary of the accident coming up, Sara knew they had come a long way, and worked through the toughest year of their lives. Tempers had been lost and things said that they both regretted—it was to be expected with a life change like they had experienced, but they got past it. Now their relationship was only stronger because of it.

Dating Neal Caffrey had been fun. He had lived and played in the clouds, something she’d needed at that time in her life, but spending time with him in the real world was even better. Sharing a life with him, getting to know the _real_ him, and being loved in return eclipsed it all.

That’s why she’d fought so hard this year, because she wasn’t going to lose him. Having just those few months in London, she’d gotten a taste of what it was like to be Neal’s partner in life. It was a new experience, having someone else to rely on, and equally to be relied upon. To be showered with affection was one thing, but to be looked at without any rose-colored glasses and still be loved, was another. 

In the beginning, the idea of dating Neal Caffrey had been a joke. Like anyone else, she saw how absurd it was. An insurance investigator and a thief? Crazy. Especially given their past. But like Peter, she’d seen the good in him, and fallen hard. And it wasn’t for his charm or his extremely good looks, no, she fell for the man. Likewise, she wasn’t leaving him now because she could no longer dance in his arms or that he couldn’t perform daring acrobatics and run away with a multi-million-dollar painting. 

She loved him, flaws and all. They would simply have to learn new ways to be intimate as they’d been discovering the past few months. It wasn’t easy for either of them, and she had to let him set the pace. For as confident as he appeared, Neal was actually quite vulnerable, and exposing himself—giving up control of aspects of his life—was very difficult for him. Now, as he became more comfortable with his own body, he was finally opening himself up to her in a very raw, emotional way. 

It made her love him more.

Sara couldn’t blame him for keeping the ugly and embarrassing parts to himself, no matter that she’d seen it all in rehab. She’d be there for him whenever he needed her and held no disillusions that he would do the same for her. He’d worked hard all year to make sure she was happy, with no regard to what he was going through; he simply wanted the best for her.

The accident—the whole year—had been the biggest test of their relationship, more than any Nazi treasure or island getaway. Sara liked to think it had shown them their true colors and had proven to each other that they were strong enough to handle anything and that they were meant for each other. 

There was no doubt that Neal had taken on a lot of guilt over what had happened, but she wanted him to know she was an equal partner in this relationship, and that he didn’t have to take everything upon himself.

It was a delicate balance, wanting to help yet letting him do things by himself. She imagined it was like a parent who had to learn to step back and watch their child learn and grow and make mistakes all on their own. In their case, they both had to learn when to speak up. It wasn’t easy for either of them, nor did she think it was any easier as a parent. 

For Neal, he didn’t want to feel like she was responsible for taking care of him, and she didn’t want to feel like she _was_ his parent. They were both adults—partners—and they had to be honest with each other now. They shouldn’t feel like they had to hide anything, not anymore. 

Early on, they had forgotten that and it had taken a painful fight for them to realize what they were doing wrong.

Deep down, they were the same. They both had their pride and didn’t like to admit when they were wrong. But it was that same stubbornness that made them determined to work through it. 

And they had.

Sara would be the first to admit that they had settled down in the past few months. Their life was not nearly as exciting as it had been, there were no undercover stings or daring recoveries anymore, and she was okay with that. Neal was probably having a harder time with it, having lived on the adrenaline high for so long, but so far he hadn’t complained.

She pulled her car into the handicapped parking spot next to Neal’s, and smiled to herself.

Not to say it was a boring life. It never would be with Neal.

But she also found that she wasn’t afraid of making the commitment to him _and_ settling down into a quiet life. Once upon a time, the idea of it had seemed so foreign to her. She’d been climbing the ladder in her career and enjoying every minute of it. Sara hadn’t questioned that lifestyle. Even when Neal had proposed, she hadn’t been ready to settle down. The stereotypical suburban life of a house and kids wasn’t for her.

Now everything had changed. However, she was still honest with herself—she wasn’t quite ready for kids yet, but she wasn’t against it anymore. Neal wanted them, she knew, and they had talked about it in rehab. It was hard not to when the doctors painted a long, frustrating picture for them, telling them their chances were low and they’d probably have to get help. It had demoralized Neal, another loss in an ever-growing list that no one should ever have to deal with. 

He amazed her, though. Every day in rehab he had pushed himself, mentally and physically. She would have been a mess, but he made every effort with his recovery and tried to keep a smile on his face through it all. Mostly for her, but in the months since they had moved to Colorado, she had witnessed an acceptance in him. He wasn’t bitter or regretful. Maybe it was the con man within him, always putting on a good face or rolling with the punches and improvising when needed. Or maybe because he was so used to loss and having to move on. Either way, she saw him smile and laugh, no con needed, and that was when she realized he would be okay. They both would.

It didn’t matter that she had to start her career all over, at the bottom of the ladder once again, and work long, unforgiving hours, coming home at—she glanced at the clock on the dashboard—seven fifteen at night. That actually wasn’t so bad, she mused, picking up her purse from the passenger seat and opening her door.

At least she could pull from her background and experience. Neal was having to completely start over. While he held a vast amount of self-learned knowledge of art, he couldn’t exactly apply that to a job without a degree, and she doubted they would appreciate his extensive knowledge of how to expertly forge and age a Degas.

She had no doubt that he would excel at college, and even enjoy the experience. They both just had to put in the effort and pay their dues until they could get back to that point in their life once more. All things considered, she knew they were lucky at the opportunities afforded to them, and Sara was going to relish the new challenges and tackle them with the same determination and grit she had in her old life, just as she’d always done. 

Climbing out and grabbing her laptop bag from the backseat, she quickly closed and locked the car. She was ready for a quiet evening with Neal and a bottle of wine. She had managed to push it out of her mind most of the day, but it had been hard to ignore today’s date.

November 11th. 

Logically, she knew it was just another day. But it hurt nonetheless. They’d had to change their birthdays when they entered Witsec, and she recognized that it was superficial, especially when compared to everything else they’d had to change. Keeping her name was so much more important, she reminded herself. And she would always have the memories. That was one thing they stressed in Witsec: you might not be able to hang onto photos or other keepsakes, but you would always have the memories. Growing up, her mom had made the day so special, and she would treasure those memories of playing with her sister and her friends. 

Now, she would make new memories with Neal. They had already celebrated his new birthday, and it had been a low-key affair. He had joked that he would need a reminder on his calendar to remember it since he had so many of them, between his aliases and Witsec.

Still, Sara had worn her favorite dress today, a deep green, with matching emerald earrings and necklace that Neal had given her for her birthday last year. She would forever be thankful to Reena for packing her things. They weren’t photos, but keeping a part of herself, even if it was her wardrobe (Neal had called it her armor), helped ease the transition into her new life and career.

Her shoes, however, were just too hard and too expensive to replace. (She was nothing if not practical.)

Replacing everything else was just tedious. They were still finding things they needed to buy, even six months later. Plus, eventually they wanted to replace stuff that the US Marshals had provided them. She planned to buy Neal a nice set of pots and pans for Christmas. It might not be romantic, but Neal would appreciate it and keeping him happy in the kitchen was definitely a good thing.

Walking to their first floor apartment, she smiled at that thought. Of all of Neal’s talents, his cooking ranked high on her list. Especially since her talent were rather lacking—despite the lessons he’d given her this summer. (Recipes were a must, she conceded.) After years of take-out, she was thoroughly enjoying coming home to a meal waiting for her. And she didn’t mind leftovers on the evenings he had a late class. Who was she to complain?

She kicked off her heels once she got inside and went to dump her bag in their second bedroom turned study.

“I hope you put some wine in to chill,” she called out, “because I want to do nothing tonight but relax with a glass of wine and a good book.”

When she walked back to the main living area, she stopped in surprise.

Neal was parked in the middle of the floor, a single white calla lily on his lap with a purple ribbon tied around its stem, and a soft smile on his face. Wearing a black cashmere sweater, open at the collar, with a pair of gray wool slacks, and black dress shoes, he looked more like the suave Neal Caffrey of old than the casual jeans and polo shirt student he was now.

“Happy Birthday.”

Her mouth gaped and her eyes caught sight of the huge bouquet of calla lilies on the kitchen table. It was a beautiful arrangement of purple, pale pink and white calla lilies, and sitting in front was a small box wrapped in a shimmering lavender paper and a soft pearl ribbon bow.

“You didn’t—” She stopped and held a hand to her mouth.

He rolled toward her. “What? You think just because it’s not officially your birthday anymore, that I’m not going to make a big deal out of it?”

Back in rehab, he’d said nothing about his own birthday, but had given her a small smile when she’d brought him a cupcake. That was Neal, always wanting to deflect the attention onto someone else.

“I…” She shook her head and smiled. “Thank you.”

He held the flower up for her, and she accepted it as she leaned down to kiss him. Their lips touched gently, and she breathed in the heady scent of his cologne. His hand cupped her cheek and there was silence, neither of them making a move, both obviously content in just this moment. 

Today might just be a good day after all, she thought, and sighed happily.

*~*~*~*

After dinner, a delicious meal of garlic shrimp, roasted eggplant, and mushrooms over delicate homemade gnocchi, Neal went to put two Grand Marnier soufflés in the oven and pull out the crème anglaise sauce he’d made earlier to warm on the stove. Her eyes followed him as he then picked up the small present from the table, dropped it in his lap and wheeled into the living room. He laid the present down on the couch and smoothly transferred, coming to sit beside her.

He held the box out to her with a small smile, his eyes warm and tender, and she smiled as their fingers brushed against each other. She set it down in her lap and carefully tugged at the ends of the ribbon, the bow falling apart in her hands. Slowly sliding her finger under the seam of the wrapping paper, she pulled it away and found a simple white box. It was small, perhaps only four-inches square, and while it would be easy to guess jewelry, she’d learned never to underestimate Neal’s creativity.

However, when she opened the box, she spotted the small black ring box nestled in the pearlescent tissue paper. She gasped, and her eyes shot up to him, her heart beginning to race. He smiled and rested a hand on her knee, running his thumb gently across her skin.

Her mind went blank as she stared at the ring box before her. Of all the ways she had envisioned Neal proposing, for real, she had not expected this. But he always liked to do the unexpected. 

She didn’t need a grand proposal on top of the Empire State Building, and he knew that. The smallest gestures held so much more meaning these days, and neither of them ever took anything for granted anymore.

Her hands shook as she finally picked up the box and opened it. A beautiful solitaire princess-cut diamond sparkled in the light, with a small diamond inset on the band on either side. It was simple, yet classy and sophisticated, exactly to her taste.

“Last time, I got down on one knee,” he began, then paused. She reached out and squeezed his hand. He smiled and took a deep breath, “and I asked you to go on one more adventure with me, but I’m the lucky one, because I’m already living it. 

“For a long time, I didn’t think I would get another chance, but you opened your heart to me again, and I will forever be thankful. Every day I wake up in awe that you’re there beside me. I cannot express how much that means to me.” He picked up her hand and pressed his lips to her palm with the gentlest kiss. Her heart fluttered.

“I wouldn’t have made it through this last year if it weren’t for you, and I don’t want to imagine the next one—or fifty—without you.”

Sara felt a tear roll down her cheek, and Neal leaned over to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. She took a ragged breath, her chest heaving, as she tried to keep it together.

“Neal Caffrey was a man with many names, many faces, who liked going after shiny things, and would run when things got hard. But all he ever really wanted was a place to call home, and someone to share it with.

“I know this isn’t how we pictured our lives, but together, I think we can accomplish anything we put our hearts and minds to, and I hope you’re willing to continue this journey with me. Because that’s what this is—a journey—and I want you by my side as my partner, my equal, my wife.”

Slightly teary himself, he paused once more, and his eyes burned into hers.

“Sara, will you marry me?”

There was no hesitation, no need to think it over or even to compare, just a heartbeat to savor the moment.

“Yes,” she replied softly, watching his eyes light up, and her smile widened. “Yes, I will marry you.”

He reached over and carefully tugged the ring from its cushion. She let the box drop, and he picked up her left hand and slowly slid the ring onto her finger. Sara stared down at her hand in his, and remembered how, last time, she’d been surprised at the feelings it had stirred up, the desire to keep the ring—for it all to be real. 

Now it was.

There was no part to play. No aliases or cons. No strained smiles or silent heartbreak.

She leaned over and hugged him, feeling his arms wrap around her a moment later.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear.

“I love you, too,” she replied, and let the tears finally flow. “I prefer this one, by the way.”

“Me, too,” he said quietly, tightening his arms around her. A moment later, he added, “I thought about taking you up to the top of Pike’s Peak but I didn’t think you’d want to push me the entire way.”

Sara laughed, choking on her tears, and shook her head. “No, this was perfect.”

There was nothing more to be said; they both knew the last proposal would always hold a special place in their hearts. It had been a stepping stone in their relationship, and both had realized that they wanted more from it. Their timing had just been wrong. In the end, it didn’t matter. They had found their way back to each other.

Breaking apart, he smiled softly and reached for her hands. “I wanted you to have a new reason to celebrate this day,” he added, his voice low. There was a knowing look in his eyes, and she felt warmth fill her chest. He was always trying to take care of her, to keep her happy, and she knew she couldn’t ask for anything more.

“You mean, I don’t get to celebrate two birthdays every year?” she teased, and took a deep breath, wiping the tears from her face.

He chuckled and raised a hand to brush a tendril of her hair behind her ear. “I know this isn’t the glamorous life you dreamed of, and for that, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need black-tie affairs, Neal—or an exciting life of intrigue and stolen paintings. I just need you,” she said firmly, laying a hand on his chest and staring him straight in the eye. 

Despite how far they had come and how much she tried to show her love, Neal would always feel like he didn’t deserve it. He had lost too much, seen too many people hurt by actions, to blindly accept the good without fearing the bad.

He trailed a finger down her arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake, and she shivered. “Still, most people wouldn’t have stayed. I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“I’m not most people. And hey, don’t even think about backing out on me now; remember, you’re stuck with me for the next fifty years!” she said lightly, forcing levity into her voice. She didn’t want him to go down that path. Not now.

“Only fifty?” He looked up and smiled. “That’s not too long.”

She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. “Not long at all,” she repeated quietly.

He kissed the top of her head softly and wrapped an arm around her. “This former con man just wants to settle down and have a quiet life. Think you can handle that?”

Sara smiled wistfully.

“I do.”


End file.
